By The Lake
by yumi michiyo
Summary: A bittersweet, reflective oneshot about what could have been. PostHBP


**Disclaimer: **J.K. Rowling owns everything. Need I say more?

**Author's Note: **This is a fluffy, non-serious one-shot set after HBP where Harry and Hermione are out of character (not my fault, Rowling started it) and things happen as I think they should. Written to commemorate Valentine's Day and is not related in any way to my other fic in progress.

This story was posted on the 16th of Feb, due to unfortunate circumstances. Enjoy it anyway.

'Hey.'

Harry looked up, lifting his head from his knees and a half-smile lit up his face upon seeing Hermione.

'Hi.'

She primly sat down on the grass beside him, tucking her skirt underneath her as she made herself comfortable.

They sat in companionable silence for a minute or two before Hermione spoke up.

'Ginny told me what happened just now.'

Harry glanced at her ruefully. 'And?'

She gestured to the far side of the lake where a familiar fiery-haired girl could be seen chatting to a group of boys.

'She seems to be taking it quite well, don't you think?' murmured Hermione, a strange look on her face.

Even as they were watching, a high peal of unmistakably female laughter echoed across the water. A muscle tightened in Harry's cheek, although his face betrayed no emotion. Hermione suddenly realised her mistake in interfering in his relationship and attempted to make amends.

_What's wrong with me? _Hermione furiously berated her sudden lack of good judgement. _I've been acting…_bitchy_ all year. _

'Look, Harry, I'm not here to stir up trouble –'

He raised a hand half-heartedly. 'Forget it,' he muttered, blazing emerald eyes fixed upon the attractive redhead. 'Just leave it.'

Hermione bit her lower lip and shifted on the grassy patch. The sun was setting now, its last orange beams streaking and dappling the magnificent white tomb.

The colourful display caught Harry's eye, just as she had predicted it would. 'I'm going to kill that bastard Snape,' growled Harry, his jaw clenching.

Hermione blinked in surprise. _I didn't expect his train of thought to progress that far._

Before she had even recovered from that violent outburst, he whirled around, gripping her arm.

'Tell me honestly, Hermione, is it all my fault?'

'What – '

'Look at me,' he demanded, squeezing her hand.

The pain in his deep green eyes was almost unbearable. For a moment, all his defences dropped away to reveal the lost, lonely little boy he still was. What she saw made Hermione long to take him in her arms and never let go.

Harry seemed to take her long silence as assent and he visibly deflated, reverting to his original position with his head resting on his knees which were drawn up to his chest.

'I'm no better than Voldemort.'

The abrupt change in Harry made her worried and it showed. 'Harry,' she began, stretching her hand out to him, 'Voldemort is a murderer – '

'That's what I am!' he roared abruptly, startling Hermione and throwing her backward onto the ground.

'Harry…'

'My parents died to save me!' He was crying now; tears streamed freely down his cheeks. 'Ginny almost died in the Chamber of Secrets! I…I told Cedric to take the Triwizard Cup with me!'

'It's not your fault…' Hermione's voice rose, and then faltered. Tears, too, were running down her face.

'Sirius, the only family I had left, he died because _I _had to rush into the Ministry like a _hero_! And now…' Harry gazed at the mausoleum in the distance, clenched fists shaking with barely suppressed emotion.

'I'm no better than Voldemort. Another Dark Lord to match him.' The words came out as a whisper now; all the pent-up emotions locked away had finally been released.

'Oh, Harry.'

He had buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with sobs.

'It's not your fault…' _I never knew he carried that massive emotional burden inside him._

Hermione moved closer, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, murmuring soft words of comfort as she struggled to compose herself.

A cold breeze chilled her tear-soaked face; the sun had set long ago without the both of them realising it.

_McGonagall would understand, _she reassured her Prefect side. _Harry needs me now._

Hermione was still absent-mindedly stroking Harry's hair, enjoying the silky-softness of it between her fingers.

She wasn't prepared for what happened next.

Harry suddenly got into a kneeling position in one fluid movement and embraced her warmly in a giant bear hug.

'Thank you, Hermione,' he whispered in her ear in a tone of voice that made her go weak at the knees. 'You were always there for me, the one who understood me best.'

For one brief moment, she wanted nothing more than to melt into him but reasserted herself before she lost control.

'You're my best, oldest boy friend, Harry. You always will be.'

_And that's how it'll be. Nothing more._

He took a deep breath. 'I…I have a confession to make,' he said, gently disengaging from their embrace.

'Yes?'

Harry's whole face abruptly flushed deep red, bringing a smile to Hermione's lips as she waited expectantly.

_God, he looks so adorable when he blushes._

'I didn't plan on telling you this because it would…_complicate _things.'

'You can tell me anything, Harry.' Her warm smile encouraged him.

'I…I like you, Hermione.'

The effect on her was like a lightning bolt and her mouth fell open in shock.

_It can't be. Who would like plain, boring, ugly, know-it-all Hermione Granger, least of all Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, handsome, popular, clever and oh-so-brave. _

'You can't,' Hermione said, shaking her head.

'Why not?' he asked, touching her cheek gently and smiling that incredible smile she so loved about him.

'I'm just…ordinary, _boring _Hermione.'

'You're Hermione. The most beautiful girl in Hogwarts and my best friend. Can a guy be any luckier?'

'What about Ginny?' she demanded, worried for her friend's sanity; no-one in their right mind could ever take an interest in her romantically.

The smile faded from Harry's face and he scowled over at the place Ginny had been standing earlier with her male paramours.

'Our relationship was mostly physical, just snogging and talking about Quidditch. Besides, she doesn't seem to be missing me very much.'

Turning back to Hermione, his hard and angry expression softened.

'I don't know how I could have been so blind not to realise how you were always there by my side. Until Ron got interested in you.'

The mention of Ron stirred up unpleasant memories of her entire sixth year, when she started liking him only to find his attentions fixated on Lavender. Or her lips, to be more precise.

Hermione cringed in embarrassment, remembering the depths to which she had sunk in order to get his attention, all to no avail, finally throwing in the towel after Harry and Ginny had gotten together.

'I didn't want to confuse you and force you to choose between your two guy friends.' A wistful look crossed Harry's face. 'Now, at least I got that off my chest.'

Hermione bit her lip.

'If you don't return my feelings, it's OK,' he was saying softly, 'I'll understand and I'll always be there for you no matter what…oof!'

Hermione had thrown herself at him, flinging her arms around his neck. Harry's arms went around her waist in reflex and their lips met in a passionate, soul-searing kiss.

As the two teenagers finally broke apart, they were too lost in each other's eyes to notice a white shade standing by the white tomb. Its eyes twinkled knowingly, the apparition vanished without a trace.

**Author's Note: **Aw. I guess we all know who the ghost was. Hope you liked that bit of Valentine fluff. Love.


End file.
